


Salt-'N-Pepa

by fractalsinthesky



Series: flint and tinder [5]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: I'm sorry I'm really trying to do my longer projects but I keep getting sidetracked, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, nonbinary deputy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 19:56:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17168363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractalsinthesky/pseuds/fractalsinthesky
Summary: The tags really say it all, my dudes. One-shot, indulgent sex scene with healthy communication plus happy resolution.





	Salt-'N-Pepa

**Author's Note:**

> Some self-esteem issues/anxious thought patterns ahead because it's Sharky. Let me know if anything needs to be tagged. Also if anyone has pointers about writing sex, I'd appreciate any advice you're willing to part with--I've written some before, but it still feels off to me.

Rook caught him by surprise in the communal laundry room, changing into a borrowed set of clothes while his old stuff went through another cycle. Turns out Angel brains and bison shit took more than a standard wash to get out, but the Wolf’s Den had a bunch of clean clothes he’d been able to pick through. Even managed to find some stuff in his sizes, although it was taking a couple tries to find pants that actually fit. But the room didn’t get much traffic throughout the day and he was most comfortable in just his boxers, so he took his time while the machines chugged away, testing another pair before choosing a shirt. They stopped stock-still at the door, blinking with surprise at his state of undress.

“Hey dude, what’s up?” he asked, shaking out of a tight pantleg and trying a pair of jeans that looked more comfortable, letting them hang around his hips while he fished around for a shirt.

“Uh, just wondering if you were about ready to head out,” they said, folding and unfolding their arms awkwardly. “Are you?…About ready to head out?”

He shrugged, jerking a thumb at the closest washer. “My stuff’s going through again. Badass as it may be, our current lifestyle is taking a fuckin’ toll on the threads.”

“Yeah, I guess,” they said, eyeing him in a way he couldn’t immediately identify. Curiosity, definitely, but whether in interest or in polite bafflement, it was hard to say. Probably the latter—wishful thinking may be biasing his impression, and while he liked to think he kept himself in pretty good shape considering the pizza-based diet and steady alcohol intake, there was a degree of beer chub that could not be denied. Rook was fit as hell—no way could they be impressed by his physique. 

“Should be done in about an hour, though,” he said hurriedly, elbowing his way into a shirt for a hockey team he’d never heard of—at least it’d make Rook more comfortable. “Where we headed?”

They cleared their throat and came further into the room, scuffing their boots on the grilled flooring. “If you’re down for a roadtrip, I got a transmission from Tracey. She needs some help back at the prison. Actually—would you mind driving? I can’t remember these roads for the life of me.

He flashed them a grin, zipping up his fly and adjusting his waistband. “Shorty, you are already there.”

They stiffened, red spreading over their cheeks, and he winced. “Sorry—is that, uh, too fem?”

“N-No, it’s—it’s fine,” they said, eyes sliding away from his. “Just not used to hearing it, is all.”

“Oh, okay.” He scratched his chin slowly. “So, like…should I not use ‘shorty’, then? Is that weird?”

“Um. It’s fine.” They were definitely blushing, and he couldn’t stop staring. 

“I mean, if it’s weird, you can tell me. I don’t wanna make you feel, y’know, bad or nothin’.” He took a tentative step towards them, reaching up to turn their face towards his. Their cheek was warm.

“It’s okay, I just didn’t expect you to say that.” Their shoulders hunched defensively, but they didn’t move to push his hand away from their face, so he spread his fingers, tracing back over their earlobe and through the short, downy hair at the back of their neck. He held his breath and passed his thumb gently over the side of their cheek.

They closed their eyes, swallowing and breathing hard. “Sharky, uh…what are you-what are you doing?”

“Fuck, Dep,” he breathed, cradling their face with both hands now, leaning in until he could feel the small puffs of their breath against his face. “C’mon. You gotta know. Right? I just…fuck, I’m losing my goddamn mind.”

And maybe he was losing his mind, because he thought he felt a gentle touch by at his waist. They pulled him in closer, fingers strong at his back and he shuddered.

“Listen, um.” They bit their lips, dark eyes open and making electric contact with his. “I—Is this the dry streak talkin’, or d’you…are you sure you want this?”

“It’s not the fuckin’ dry spell, dude,” he snorted, wanting to pull them in, hike them up on top of the dryer that was still going and just rip off every last stitch between them. Why the fuck had he just put those stupid jeans on anyway? “You’re awesome. I like you. Like, a lot. Like fuzzy feelings, breakfast in bed, fuckin’ butterfly kisses and shit. If, uh, if that’s not mutual, it’s cool, we can just keep up the ass-kicking and name-taking, and—”

They surged forward, kissing him hard mid-syllable, and their lips were soft and full against his, their movement insistent and practiced. He returned the enthusiasm, threading his fingers through the base of their short ponytail, and sliding his other hand down to the small of their back, pressing their hips more firmly against his so they could feel how hard he was. They gave a sharp intake of breath, and he flushed. Fuck, it felt so good to be close to them, to have their hands roaming at his back and coming up shyly to caress his face. The heat radiating from their core and the simple pressure of their body pushing against his.

He heard a soft whine, realized it was coming from him when they broke the kiss with a smile. No, no—don’t go. He leaned in desperately, planting fat kisses over their cheeks, nose, chin, at the corners of their smiling mouth until they laughed and kissed him again, adding some tongue to the mix. He hooked their waistband with a finger, slipping a hand over their firm stomach and beneath their underwear. He felt the stiff curls of pubic hair before they grabbed his wrist, and he stopped, looking to them for permission.

“Don’t treat me different,” they said intently, licking their swollen lips. “I’m still Rook.”

He nodded, wanting to tell them he wouldn’t have it any other way, but not sure they’d believe him. He’d show them, though. Actions over words—that’s where he excelled. “Got you, amigo. And if you want to stop, just say the word.”

They hummed assent, sparing a nervous look toward the door before unbuttoning their jeans and kicking them off. Gray briefs. He stripped, sacrificing grace for speed. The idea of getting caught in a compromising state with Rook was pretty hot, but he guessed they wouldn’t be as into it as he was, so if this was happening now, it was happening quickly, and Jesus fuck, did he want it to happen yesterday. He left the boxers on, though. Even having just jacked it a couple hours ago, he probably wasn’t gonna last long, so better to save dick stuff for last. His, at least. He thought about it for a split-second and realized he was fine with the possibility of Dep having a dick. What they had downstairs wasn’t why he liked them, so really anything that didn’t have teeth would be fine, would be amazing. The thought strummed a major chord through him, and he felt like an anchor had been lifted from his heart. He’d suck the hell out of their dick if they had one.

He guided them over to the active dryer, grinning at their laugh as they realized what he was planning. They pushed their briefs down quickly and hopped up, spreading their thighs so he could move in close. He was almost glad they hadn’t joined him in the shower like he'd fantasized about during his frantic 'self-care session' because the smell of their sex was thick and earthy and fuck, it had been forever since he’d gotten to eat someone out.

“Are you—are you crying?” they asked with concern.

“No, shut up,” he bristled, cupping their calves to encourage them to hike ‘em over his shoulders. “You’ll, uh, probably wanna lie back.”

He fished around behind him blindly until he felt something soft enough, and threw them a clean blanket to use as a pillow. They settled back with a shaky breath, one hand dropping to their side, fingers working anxiously.

“Hey Dep, uh, you look real fuckin’ good, just so’s you know,” he said, stilling their fingers and interlocking his with theirs, squeezing assuringly. 

“I haven’t showered in a bit, so,” they shuffled their thighs closer together, “Sorry if it’s bad. No pressure if you’re uh, having second thoughts.”

He shook his head, turning his hat backwards with his free hand. “Dude. No worries. I’m actually really into it. Just holler if you want to stop.” He grinned. “Actually, just squeeze my hand if you wanna stop, because I’m gonna get you hollerin’ in a minute here.”

Fuck, he could see them clench at that. He restrained himself from just diving in facefirst, getting himself properly settled with his right arm braced against their ribs. He trailed light, tickling kisses from the side of their knees down the inside of their thighs, meandering deliberately and letting his beard scratch gently against the sensitive skin. He put his left hand to his neck, gauging if his fingers were warm enough, then cleared his throat.

“If you want me to stop—or if you need me to do somethin’ different or anything at all, just speak up, okay?” he asked quietly, laying his hand on the taut smoothness of their lower stomach, swiping his thumb in a playful arc through the trail of dark hair that started just below their bellybutton. 

“Got it,” they breathed, shifting slightly to reach down and thread their fingers through his hair, palm warm and affectionate at the side of his head, and he closed his eyes for a moment to savor it.

Then he grinned up at them, left hand drifting lower, parting their labia with two fingers and massaging their folds gently. They sighed, leaning back, heels pressing into his shoulderblades. He sunk deeper, circling until he heard the sharp intake of breath that meant he’d found the right spot, then switching so he could stroke with his fingers and use his thumb for their clit, planting gentle kisses against their inner thighs. 

Their breathing grew heavier, muscles of their abdomen and thighs clenching sporadically. Their grip was steady, though, so he leaned in, licking his lips, closing his eyes and nuzzling through the hair to kiss and nip at the base of their vulva, and their scent rose up, thick and spiced to meet him. He searched with two fingers, tracing the rim of their opening as he mouthed the soft, slick, heated folds, teasing with his teeth and tongue. Their hips wiggled slightly, trying to encourage his fingers to dip inside, but he pulled back, putting more pressure into circling their entrance as he began to lap at their clit in earnest.

“Oh, Shark,” they said softly, wondering, and his chest swelled with pride. Their thighs hugged the sides of his head. “Jesus. You are so good.”

He alternated long, wet lashings of his tongue with quick, delicate flicks, sinking his fingers up into the silken heat of them at last, relishing the resultant gasp as he began to draw them in and out luxuriously, curling slightly against their walls. They tasted like copper and earth, a salty thickness that he just couldn’t get enough of, and he urged them onward, holding his breath and nuzzling against them so they could feel his facial hair tickling their sensitive skin. 

“Ah-h, fuck—Sharky,” their fingers tensed against the back of his head and in his hand, and their hips bucked slightly.

He hummed against them, intensifying his efforts until their sighs gave way to a cracked, strangled sob, hips slamming automatically against the top of the dryer, curling up with an exquisite expression of reverence that went straight to his dick. 

“Hey—you’re good, dude,” he soothed, drawing back onto his haunches and taking a few deep breaths, wiping his beard on his forearm and helping them settle back. “I got you, I got you. Ready for more?”

“God, yes,” they laughed breathlessly, spreading their legs again with the self-consciousness this time. “Dude, you are amazing.”

“Uh, have you seen you, man?” he grinned back, standing up and leaning into their face, kissing the tip of their nose. “Fuckin’ incredible.”

They flushed, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him in for a full kiss, tasting themselves on his lips greedily. His jeans were uncomfortably tight, and he’d wanted to wait until they’d cum a few more times—he’d had plans, dammit—but they hauled themselves up by his waistband and had his button undone and his zipper down before he could fully appreciate the slide of their tongue against his, the pinch of their teeth around his bottom lip.

“Fuck,” he choked out with a wince as they jerked his jeans down his hips, jolting him against the dryer in the process, black starbursts blooming behind his eyes.

“Oh shit—you okay?” they asked, eyes wide, hands going to his chest, his sides, his cheek as if he was a shattered vase that they had tried to mend and weren’t sure if the glue had set.

“Mm, mhm.” He nodded, the pain giving way to an urgent need that was showing through the borrowed boxers. “Yeah, I just—god, not to be rude, Dep, but is it cool if I fuck you now?”

They grinned in answer, sliding to the edge of the dryer and wrapping their legs around his hips. He shivered, pulling down those stupid boxers as best he could and lining himself up, sliding his tip along their folds and then pushing his head up to their entrance. Just the heat and pressure like this was almost too much, and he swallowed hard, fighting the urge to just shove forward and thrust artlessly like it was his first time again. His hesitation did not go unnoticed.

“You okay?” they asked, frowning with concern. They put a hand on his arm. “We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to.”

He shook his head fervently. “I—thanks, but I mean, I really want to. Uh, I just don’t, um, want to let you down, you know?” His ears burned.

“Hey, look at me.” They nudged his chin with their fist, then cupped his cheek in their hand, gaze level and open. “Pretty sure it’s scientifically impossible for that to happen. Ever. We’re ride or die, no matter what, okay? Like Dom and uh, that other guy. What’s his name?”

He laughed and sniffled a little, covering their hand with his—partly to make sure it was real and partly to keep his tears from getting them wet. “I dunno, Dep, I’ve seen all the movies and I’m, uh, fairly certain Dom and Brian never fucked.”

They winked. “Maybe not that they showed you, but some storytelling is implicit.”

He laughed again, leaning forward and kissing them quickly, then again, deepening as they cupped his face in both hands now. He eased himself forward, slowly, earning a soft gasp from his friend as he felt them stretch around him, sinking into a perfect wet heat that thrummed from the shaking of the dryer below.

“Goddamn.”

“Fuck,” they agreed.

He held them close, hips flush to his for a moment, every nerve thrilling as they ran their hands up his arms, down his chest, hooking up behind his back, blunt nails scraping deliciously back down over his ribs. Then he kissed the top of their head, their cheek, urging them to lean further back but unable to resist bending with them, planting more kisses at the hollow of their jaw and along their neck, grinning when they squirmed ticklishly.

“Dude, your beard—!”

“What, this?” he nuzzled over their throat, working his way back up towards their ear, rocking his hips with gradually increasing speed. “My bad, Po po. Don’t go arrestin’ me or nothin’.”

Their snicker turned into a pleased gasp as he captured their earlobe between his teeth, biting down as he gave them a full, deep thrust. Shit, that was a good sound. He adopted a slow, rolling rhythm, pulling almost entirely out before burying himself again, nipping at their ear occasionally as their legs tightened around him. They hummed low at the back of their throat and he faltered, drawing back to cup their face with one hand as he worked the other between them, circling their clit at a frantic pace that soon had them twitching, spine stiffened and brow furrowed like his fingers were live wires.

“Shit, shit, fuck, oh—!” They snapped up, eyes wide and staring into his, mouth gaping helplessly, clenching tightly around him.

Between their expression and the sensation of their orgasm around his dick, that was it for him, and he clutched them against him with deathly desperation as sparks went off behind his eyes and a rush of sweet prickling heat flooded his balls.

“Dep—” he shuddered, dizzy as he spent himself inside them, nerves flaring at every point of contact, the smell of them like sweat and pine trees and leather and gunsmoke burning itself into his nostrils, their ragged panting in his ear conducting the beat of his heart. 

They sighed, breath chilling the sweat that had slicked his back, and wrapped their arms more comfortably around him, one hand coming up to steady the back of his head. He felt their heart thudding through their shirt, and wished that they’d done this somewhere more private, some place with a bed where he could curl up in their shared heat and fall asleep to that sound. His eyes were burning again, and he relaxed his deathgrip on them to swipe at his cheeks.

“You okay?” they asked, planting a kiss on his shoulder and carefully not looking at him so he wouldn’t be embarrassed.

“Yeah,” he said, withdrawing carefully and drawing his boxers back up over his hips. “Yeah, I’m—I’m really good. How are you?”

He winced, grinning sheepishly at the awkward question, but their smile was far from mocking. 

“I’m good too. Fuck, I’ve been thinking about that for a while, man.”

He flushed, searching through the clothes at their feet for their underwear. “Really? Thanks, Dep—me too, to be honest. Feels good to have that out in the open.”

He found the gray briefs and handed them over, then went on the hunt for his jeans.

“Thanks. And I totally agree—uh, also, this doesn’t have to be a conversation we have now, but—” they slid the briefs on and hopped off the dryer, making a face and adjusting themselves. “Um. What do you see with this…going forward?”

He stopped, jeans halfway up his thighs, panic thrilling at the back of his skull. “That’s—that’s in question? I thought we were ride or die, dude.” He felt the desperation seeping through, the cold certainty that they would leave him stopping his lungs. This always happened—they always left eventually, and he should have known, he shouldn’t have let himself think it could be different—

They saw the panic in his face and reached out, touching his arm in reassurance. “No, of course we are! Sorry, I just wasn’t sure if you, if you wanted to try…you know. Like a relationship-type thing. With me. Versus like a ‘friends-who-fuck’ kind of deal.”

He blinked. “Uh, did you not hear the whole ‘breakfast in bed’ thing before? Dep—uh, Rook. I would fight a tank full of gator Judges with my bare fists every goddamn day if you wanted me to. I’d let John Fuckin’ Seed tattoo my eyeballs, okay? I’d go—I’d go hang-gliding naked through a paper canyon and like, roll around in lemon juice after if that’s something you needed. I’m in it for as long as you are, alright?”

They grinned. “Uh, I don’t foresee literally any of that being necessary, but thank you. You’re my best friend, and I think we have something really special.” They looped their arms under his, giving him a quick squeeze and backing off to finish getting dressed, cheeks still bunched in a smile.

He couldn’t suppress a grin of his own, hiking his pants up the rest of the way and buttoning them up. “Dude. That is so fucking cool. I love you, man.”

They laughed, tossing him his shirt. “Love you too, Sharky.”


End file.
